Hopefully those who felt shorted by the previous chapter will find this one satisfactory.

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Scarlett's efforts to find him a house became more focused, targeting ones that he might like. After three days of her newly intensified search, Rhett was exhausted from the effort of finding excuses to turn them down. "Hells bells, Rhett," she said in exasperation on the afternoon of the third day. "One might think you really don't want to leave your mother's house after all."

"I do want to," he assured her. "But it seems I will be spending most of my time indoors, so my new home must be agreeable." He chided himself for not seizing the opportunity to tell her about his feelings. On the one hand, he was unsure of exactly what his feelings were. He didn't want to cause her more pain by giving her the wrong impression. But on the other hand, as more time passed his opportunities would pass also.

Their nights were difficult. Neither was sleeping well, Scarlett tossing and turning as she ran through the fog and Rhett quite simply did not sleep. His mind was most active once they had retired for the night. Images of her flashed through his mind, some from years ago and some from as recently as a few days ago. In all of them, she was beautiful and she looked at him with longing, a longing that his body was echoing. He tried to put her out of his mind but the effort was futile; the more he tried, the more her image remained stubbornly behind his eyes.

Sometimes he would venture down the hall towards her room, each night daring to move a little closer until finally he stood in her doorway, watching her sleep. He stood tentatively for a few minutes and then eased into her room, sliding through the doorway and leaning against the wall. The drapes at her window were not quite closed and the moonlight streamed in through the gap. It cast a heavenly glow over her features and Rhett smirked. If there is one woman that would defy such a description, it is Scarlett. But he couldn't deny the effect of the moon light. The soft light softened her features and cast a warm glow on her skin.

He stood awestruck, feeling much the same as he did on their first night together as he watched her sleep. Rhett remembered that night clearly; he had lain awake next to her as she had drifted to sleep, both still warm from the lovemaking, which had been filled with a sweetness that only happens once in a relationship. Married twice before, she wasn't a virgin on their wedding night, but she'd still possessed the innocence of one. Later she'd confided some of the particulars of her encounters with her previous husbands. Both men had been fumbling idiots, barely able to manage their own pleasure and certainly unable to provide any for her. As he stood watching her, he thought perhaps her third marriage had been to a bumbling idiot of a different kind.

Rhett tensed as she began to move, squirming under the covers. He stood still, afraid of discovery. What will she think if she finds me standing here? An urge to bolt back to his room grew inside of him but he remained, feet stuck to the floor, mesmerized.

Scarlett sensed a presence in her room but with the moonlight in her face, she couldn't see the figure standing across the room. She laid very still for a few minutes, letting her eyes adjust and her mind quiet. Listening intently, she heard nothing. But she knew she was not alone. "Who is there?" she asked quietly. Rhett remained silent. This time she was insistent. "Who is there?" she said louder.

Rhett knew he was caught so he stepped forward. "It's me. I…heard you and came to see if you are alright."

"Rhett?" she inquired, clearing her mind of the fog of sleep.

"Yes, my pet…"

"Mmmm, like when you call me that," she purred.

"You were restless," he commented.

"I felt you here. Come closer…"

He moved to the side of her bed, not taking his eyes off her. As he moved, she looked at him, her eyes flashing in the moonlight. "Do you need anything?" he asked.

She looked up at his face coyly. "You," she replied in a husky voice.

Rhett swallowed as he stood motionless next to the bed. Never in his life had he ever felt so off balance in the presence of a woman. His head was spinning with all the reasons why he shouldn't respond to her request. His heart was beating impetuously, willing him to her. "Scarlett, I…I'm not sure…since the fire…" He sighed. How could he confess that he wasn't certain of his abilities? Possibly, she might ignore his mutilation only to face the inevitable disappointment.

Scarlett's eyes remained on him, her sparkle shining in the darkness of the room. "There were no burns…in that region, if that is what concerns you…"

"Yes, I know. But …I'm not yet healed completely and…I haven't the strength that I had before." He hoped she might understand his meaning and as she watched him, he thought he saw a glimmer of comprehension.

"But if you were healed, you would consider…lying with me?"

Rhett held back the flippant remark that once he might have unleashed. Instead, he took a deep breath and nodded. Then realizing she couldn't see his response, he found his voice. "Everything is very confusing for me right now, Scarlett. But…I'm finding that old feelings aren't dead. Perhaps they just needed to lie dormant for a while as I regrouped, or perhaps your coming to my aid has rekindled them. In any case, I've been thinking that perhaps we could…I mean, if you can bear to …" He sighed again. "I would understand if my scars are too much to bear. But I've been thinking that perhaps we might give ourselves a chance to see if we can …come to an understanding?"

Scarlett tilted her head demurely. Then she moved to the opposite side of her bed and lifted the covers, beckoning to him. "Come next to me. For now, I will be content with you beside me." He slid under the covers, feeling awkward and ill equipped for her invitation but afraid to turn it down. He had another chance and he knew it was a gift. They lay side by side until he heard her whisper, "hold me, Rhett, please hold me."

Lifting his arm, he wrapped it around her as she rested her head on his chest, her hand over his heart. Almost afraid to breath he remained quiet, basking in the sensation of her closeness. Slowly he began to relax as she truly seemed content with the situation. Her fingers lazily traced circles on his chest calming him further, his own fingers beginning to stroke the smooth skin of her shoulder. "Scarlett," he said, almost whimpered. She felt so good to him, so …right. And then he saw them, his fingers, red and raw with the burn scars that travelled up his arm to even deeper ones. And he began to panic, pulling his hand away.

Scarlett felt the change in him and opened her eyes, immediately seeing the terror in his face. Quickly her hand was on his face, gently forcing him to look at her. "Rhett," she soothed, calmly. "Rhett, look at me…look at my face." He didn't want to look, afraid of the revulsion he was certain he would see. "Look at me," she demanded.

Slowly he turned his dark eyes towards her. Her heart wrenched at the tortured expression in them. "Rhett," she said, reaching for him. He flinched when her hand made contact but she didn't back away. "Kiss me, Rhett."

His eyes grew huge. "No," he said apprehensively. "Kiss me, Rhett," she insisted.

"Scarlett…I can't…I won't….defile you like that…" His misery was palatable as he looked away, fixing his gaze on the wall behind her.

Stunned, Scarlett sat up, her eyes still fixed on his face. "Whatever are you talking about, Rhett? Defile me…how would…I don't understand."

"My scars…the deformities; they are an outer indication of what lies within me."

Scarlett sighed. "Rhett, I don't understand. You are not burned on the inside…"

"But I am twisted … perverted in some way; I must be." He was frightening her. Scarlett had never heard him speak with such contempt for himself. This was not Rhett, the arrogant, self-assured man that had wooed her and finally stolen her heart; the man that had always been able to understand her, see through her pretenses. This was a stranger, someone filled with self- doubt and loathing. "Rhett, you are frightening me…"

"I am?' He seemed genuinely surprised. "Nothing frightens you, Scarlett…well, seldom anyway. I am just stating the truth."

"Well, whatever you think you are on the inside, I still want you to kiss me," she declared petulantly.

His eyes moved back to hers. "Did my mother tell you where I was the night of the fire? I doubt it. You wouldn't want my attentions if you knew." Scarlett frowned, trying to understand what he was trying to say. "I would too," she insisted, childlike in her peevishness.

Rhett smiled, sadly. "I was at a whorehouse, my pet…in bed with a whore when the fire broke out."

Tears rushed to her eyes but she refused to let them fall. "You…you've been to whorehouses before…" The hurt in her tone stung him. "Yes, I have." he drawled. "But that night I was with a particular one…one that looked much like you." He waited to see her response, expecting an explosion. Instead, she was quiet as she absorbed the information.

Scarlett's mind was reeling. He was with a woman that looks like me? But why? Was he abusing her or was he with her because….because he missed me? Yes, that's it. She reminded him of me and that's why he was with her…to feel nearer to me…yes, he was thinking of me that night, missing me." "You missed me?" she asked hopefully.

"I was trying to avoid her but somehow ended up in bed with her anyway," he confessed. Scarlett astonished him with her laughter. His expression gave his confusion away and she stopped to explain. "Don't you see, Rhett? It is so like us. You were trying to avoid her, just as you tried so many times to avoid me, all your comings and goings…but you could never completely leave, just as I could never let go of you. There's something between us, binding us together and no matter how hard we fight it, it won't break. All those years I thought I loved Ashley and kept trying to push you away…but if you went very far, I missed you terribly. After I said I didn't want anymore babies, didn't want you in my bed any longer…I regretted it immediately, although I didn't understand why."

He looked at her incredulously. "You don't care that I was with a whore?"

"Of course I care. But it wasn't the first time. I took you into my bed several times after you'd spent the evening at that Whatling woman's place…the most memorable being the night of Ashley's birthday party."

He stared at her, disbelief etched into his features. Scarlett held his gaze, not flinching. "Now Rhett, are you going to kiss me?"

"Scarlett," he whispered, "you are so beautiful and I'm…" he voice fell away forlornly.

"You are my husband, the only man I've ever truly loved. Your scars bother me only because of the pain that they represent. I love you, Rhett Butler, and you can keep running away and trying to hide from that fact until doomsday, but it will never change. You used to say we are alike under the skin, both scoundrels…neither of us a gentleman. No one understands me as you do; no one ever will. I accept that now and am happy with it. I want you to know me better and I want to understand you. But first, I want you to simply kiss me. You remember how, don't you," she asked impudently.

She saw surrender in his eyes and knew she had won this small battle. She waited as he came to the same conclusion. Then timidly, he leaned towards her until their lips touched. Scarlett put her hand behind his neck, willing him closer. She was unused to uneasiness from him and this new side of him was frustrating to her. But she forced herself to remain calm and patient.

Her taunt had nearly been his undoing. Of course, I remember how to kiss he scoffed inwardly. But she can't really mean it…can she? Perhaps she does. Maybe she can look beyond the past, beyond the night of the fire, past my grotesque face… Fear ran through him as his lips touched hers. What if she pulls away? What do I do then? He cried silently. But she didn't pull away and he rejoiced as he felt her hand move to his neck, holding him to her. Confidence ignited and he sought a deeper kiss, his lips pressing more firmly, and then his tongue softly making contact. She tasted so sweet to him as she responded, her tongue making contact with his and her hands both fully engaged on his neck and in his hair.

The kiss deepened. Rhett felt renewed energy flowing through his body as she refused to let him disengage, every indication telling him that she wanted more. His lips left hers in search of other places to kiss, trailing across her cheek and under her ear then down her neck. He felt her relaxing into his grip, exposing her neck to more attention; felt the tremors that ran through her as he continued to kiss and nibble; felt her submission. And he knew it was true, she did love him. He became aware of something wet on her neck, like tears and then realized that it was tears, his tears. "Oh Scarlett," he cried into her neck, "you do love me, don't you?"

Her hands forced his face towards hers and she began planting kisses all around, even over the scars. "Yes I do, Rhett, so very much." He recaptured her with his arms and pulled her to him, vowing to himself that he would never let her go again.

The next morning, when Emma came looking for Scarlett, she found them asleep together, Rhett still holding her dearly, as if his very life depended on it.

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So, I need your help here. I can keep this a "T" rating or I can take it to a "M" rating. WHat do ya think?